MWDC: Aquaman: the Plunge
by Finmonster
Summary: Arthur Curry has spent his whole life looking for a place where he truly belongs. After 20 years of waiting, he finally gets his chance, and the resulting adventure is almost to outrageous to believe! MWDC Part 2 Book 5


**MWDC: Part 2 Book 5:**

**Auqaman: The Plunge**

**Chapter 1: Water Birth**

_Death, like birth, is a secret of Nature._**  
**Marcus Aurelius

_July 20__th__, 1992, Mercy Reef, Maine_

Thunder sounded in the distance, accompanied by the roaring of waves crashing against the rocky shore. Darkness had fallen over the small town, the moon covered by the clouds from the approaching storm, the only source of illumination being the lighthouse standing proudly at the entrance to the town's small harbor. The lighthouse was a beautiful yet simple building, consisting of a simple house attached to the large, white brick tower with a bright beacon of light at its top. However, despite the coming storm, the keeper of the lighthouse was not at home.

Tom Curry stood on the rocky shores of the coast, looking down at where the water met the land with a worried look on his face. He was a young man, in his late twenties, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. He had an athletic build and wore a flannel shirt over a white t-shirt and blue jeans with work boots. Standing next to him was another man with black, crewcut hair and brown eyes. He wore a dark blue jacket over a white t-shirt and jeans along with brown shoes. On his other side was another man. This man had graying hair and a similarly colored and neatly trimmed beard. He wore a blue polo shirt and brown pants. They also looked worried, glancing at Arthur in concern before turning to look down at the shore.

"She's going to be alright, Tom," the first man said, putting his hands on his shoulder.

Tom didn't say anything as he looked down at the two figures on the shoreline. Standing ankle deep in a tidal pool was another man. This man had blonde hair like Tom and blue eyes behind thick glasses, a small goatee growing on his chin. He had a slim physique, over which he wore a blue polo shirt and brown pants which he had rolled up to his knees as he kneeled in the tide pool before another person.

In the water lay what appeared to be a young woman. She seemed to be the same age as the other men with a slim figure. She had light blue skin and pointed elven ears. Her hair was long and pure white and her eyes grey. She had gills along the side of her neck, while her hands and feet were webbed. Small fins grew from her lower arms and legs as well. She wore a long, flowing blue dress. Her legs were spread, her heavy breathing shaking her large, pregnant belly.

"Alright, Namora," the blonde man said, "The child is getting close to crowning, so I'm going to have to ask you to push really hard. Are you ready for that?"

"I am prepared, doctor," she said with a thick accent, sounding akin to a Greek one.

"Alright, now push!" the doctor exclaimed. Namora screamed as she pushed; sweat mixing with the seawater splashing around her. After a few grueling seconds, there came the sound of a wailing baby.

"Congratulations," the doctor said as he took the baby into his arms, "It's a boy."

"Let…let me hold him," Namora said as she reached out weakly for the baby. The doctor nodded and handed the baby over to her. Above them, one of Tom's friend squeezed Tom's shoulder before they made their way down to the tide pool.

They quickly made their way through the slick and seaweed covered rocks, arriving in the tidepool a few moments later. Seeing them approach, Namora held up the baby for Tom to see. Smiling, he kneeled down and looked at the baby boy.

The boy was Caucasian in his coloring. He had a few, fine, blonde hairs on the top of his head. His fingers and toes were webbed and his ears had a slight point to them. Gills grew from the sides of his neck and small fins grew from his calves.

"Congratulations, Tom," the doctor said, standing up and shaking Tom's hand, "You're a father."

"And you're an uncle, Phil," Tom replied with a smile before he turned towards his wife and son.

"He's beautiful," Tom whispered in awe, looking at his son.

"Here, hold him," Namora said, breathing heavily, as she held the baby up to him. Arthur took the baby carefully into his arms, looking down at his son in wonder as the baby cried. As he held the baby, Namora's face scrunched up in discomfort as she let out a cry of pain.

"Namora, what's wrong!" Tom asked, panicked.

"It hurts!" she cried.

"Phil, what's wrong with her!" Tom asked desperately, turning to look at the doctor.

"Oh God, I think there's internal bleeding," Phil stated in horror.

"Can you stop it!" Tom asked.

"I-I don't know," Phil whispered.

"What do you mean you don't know!" Tom demanded.

"I'm just a marine biologist, Tom!" Phil shouted back, "I'm not a doctor, damn it! I'm trying my best!"

"Just help her!" Tom yelled.

"Calm down, Tom," the man with the crewcut said, trying to stop a fight.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Michael!" Tom shouted, rounding on him, "My wife is dying!"

"Your brother is doing the best he can!" the bearded man said.

"That's not good enough, Wayne!" Tom yelled at him.

"Thomas," Namora said weakly, trying to get her husband's attention.

"I'm here," Tom replied, turning to her and taking her hand in his. He noticed how cold she had become.

"I…I need…to tell you…something," Namora said weakly, "I…need you…to listen. I don't have…much time."

"Don't talk like that," Tom whispered, tears welling up in his eyes, "You're going to be okay. Phil is going to make you better, right Phil?"

Phik could only stare down at his hands in despair, shaking his head slowly. Tom stifled a sob as he looked at him.

"Thomas…please," Namora spoke up, desperately trying to regain her husband's attention, "You have to…listen."

"I'm listening," Tom replied, nodding as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"You need…to take care…of our son," she said, tears from her eyes mixing with the salt water around her.

"I will," Tom replied, squeezing her hand.

"You have to…make sure…he knows…his mother loved him," she said sadly, "He has to know…his mother's love for him…was as deep…as the sea."

"He'll know," Tom stated, now crying openly, "I promise you, he'll know."

"Good," she replied with a smile, before coughing violently, "You'll need to protect him…"

"Protect him?" Tom questioned, "Protect him from what?"

"He will be shunned…both above the surface…and below it," she gasped, "My enemies…will be…his enemies. You have to keep him…safe."

"I will," Tom replied, "I'll protect him with my life."

"He is destined…for great things," she whispered, gazing lovingly at her son, who continued to cry in his father's arms, "I want him…to name him…Arthur."

"You want him to be named Arthur?" Tom repeated, "Why?"

"You once told me…that was the name…of a great king…a great leader of men," she explained, "I believe our son…will be such a leader."

"How do you know that?" Tom asked, confused, "He's just a baby."

"I…can feel…it," she elaborated, smiling weakly, "A…mother knows…"

"Alright," Arthur agreed, "We'll name him Arthur. Arthur Curry."

"I like that…" she smiled, before she began coughing violently, looking up at him with a pained expression, tears streaming down her face, "I love you Thomas."

"I love you too, Namora," Tom cried.

As he said that, Namora smiled at him before her face fell and her eyes slowly closed. A moment later, she went limp in his arms.

"Namora?" he said softly, sorrow rising inside of him, "Namora! Oh God, Namora!"

He wailed as he reached down and pulled Namora's cold body to him, water dripping around them as he cried into her shoulder, his son crying in his arms. Thunder boomed above them as the sea itself wept for her passing.

_The next day_

The sun shone over the harbor of Mercy Reef, a stark contrast to the storm that had hit the area last night. Out by the lighthouse, which now stood dark in the sunlight, stood a group of people. Tom stood with his infant son in his arms, the young Arthur asleep in his swaddling blanket. Next to him stood Phil, Michael and Wayne, all sporting somber expressions. Along with them was a woman the same age, standing next to Wayne. She had hazel eyes and long amber hair done up in a bun. She wore a white blouse and a long white skirt along with brown sandals. She carried a small baby boy in her arms as well.

In front of them was a freshly covered grave. Behind it sat a simple cross that had been made out of drift wood. Namora's name had been carved into it and a bouquet of flowers lay in front of it.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Tom," the woman said, looking at Arthur with sympathetic eyes.

"Thank you, Maria," Tom replied, still looking at the grave.

"If there is anything you ever need, we'll help you out," Wayne said putting his arm around Maria's shoulders.

"That goes for me too," Michael spoke up.

Tom merely nodded, not taking his eyes away from the grave.

Michael reached up and put it on Tom's shoulder, squeezing it assuredly before he, Wayne and Maria left him alone with his son. Tom watched them go for a while, Phil patting him on the shoulder sympathetically.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save her, Tom," Phil said, barely louder than a whisper.

"It's alright Phil," Tom replied, "It's like you said. There's nothing you could have done to save her."

As he said that, his son began crying in his arms.

"You hungry, Arthur?" he asked, looking down at his son as he turned to walk back into the lighthouse, Phil following behind him, "Let's see if me and your uncle can figure out how to get your bottle to work."

_Meanwhile, somewhere in the Atlantic_

Deep beneath the sea, in a valley surrounded by undersea mountains, sat a majestic, expansive city. Skyscraper-like buildings with an architecture that looked like a mixture of ancient Greek and modern styles. Lights shone from the buildings as odd looking piping, glowing a strange blue, ran between the buildings. Various forms of sea life swam between the buildings as did people, some looking like Namora did, with various designs painted or tattooed onto their skin. Others looked like the classic mermaids from myth, while others looked like humans with fish or even squid features. Ships of various shapes and sizes zipped around the city as well, their engines glowing the same blue as the piping. Some of the vehicles resembled jet skis, with the riders straddling the vehicle and directing it with handlebars. Looming above the city was a pair of large ships that looked like a mix between a submarine and a battleship.

Sitting in the center of the city on a large plateau was a massive palace. It resembled the great buildings of ancient Greece and Rome, with large columns and statues of the gods decorating the various courtyards, including a large statue of Poseidon sitting between the gates of the complex and doors leading into the palace.

Deep within the palace was a large room with a domed roof. The roof was decorated with images of the city's people and undersea life, along with another depiction of Poseidon. The room was largely empty, with a series of thrones set up around the circular room with a large stylized A drawn on the floor around which they had been set up. At the back of the room, directly across from the huge, golden, double doors that lead into the room was a throne that was larger than the others and sat above them on a dais. It was made of black rock and decorated with a pearls and jewels of various colors.

Sitting on the throne was a man. He was Caucasian in coloring, a stark contrast to the blue coloring of the other people. His eyes were a dark brown and his short hair was pitch black. He and a powerful build, with his skin decorated with numerous scars. He had gills along the side of his neck and his ears came to a point. His fingers and toes were webbed and tiny, wing-like appendages on his ankles. He wore a tight black vest and green, scaled pants along with a golden belt buckled together with an A symbol like the one painted on the floor.

As he sat, he watched two children playing in the open area in front of him. One was a young boy, with the blue skin and white hair that the majority of the people had. He wore it in a short ponytail, showing his pointed ears. He appeared to be roughly ten years old, with a young athletic build. He wore a green vest and black scaled pants, along with a belt similar to the man on the throne wore.

The other child was a girl. She looked much like the boy, though young, only around five years old. She wore her white hair in short pigtails and wore a pink vest and green scaled pants, along with a matching golden belt over her skinny frame.

As he watched them play, a small smile crossed the man's face. His thoughts were interrupted however, as the doors to the room were pushed open the door. In walked a man about the same age as the man on the throne. He had blue skin and pointed ears like others of the city, with a bald head and a black goatee along with dark brown eyes. He wore gold colored scale armor, which had a green colored cape hanging from the back. In one hand he carried a gold colored trident while in the other he carried a golden helmet with a decorative fin running down the helmet. A sword hung from his black belt and the stylized A held his belt together.

"Hail, King Namor!" the man said in a tongue similar to Greek, quickly kneeling and bowing his head.

"Hail, General Krang," the man, Namor, said in the same tongue as he stood from his throne and walked over to the man, the children watching his every step.

"I bring news from the surface, my king," Krang explained as he stood up and looked Namor in the eye.

"Speak," Namor ordered. Krang looked uneasily at the children before turning his eyes back to Namor.

"This is sensitive information, my king," Krang explained, "Perhaps it should not be given in front of children."

Namor glanced at the children before glaring at Krang.

"Speak now, General," Namor repeated with a harsh tone.

"We have information on your sister," Krang whispered, still hoping to keep the information from the children.

"What!" Namor said, growing irritated, "What did you find! Tell me now! Where is she!"

"You found Mama!" the little girl said excitedly in the strange tongue, while her brother tried to shush her. Namor looked at the two children before visibly forcing himself to calm down.

"What did you find, General?" he asked.

Krang gulped nervously before taking a calming breath.

"She is dead, my liege," he said solemnly.

Namor looked at him with a shocked expression as there was a loud gasp from the children.

"WHAT!" Namor roared as he grabbed Krang by the neck of his armor and pull him closer, as the sounds of the girl crying began to echo through the room, "Where! How!"

"My men don't know how," Krang explained quickly, "They reported back as soon as they found her."

"WHERE!" Namor demanded.

"A place on the surface!" Krang exclaimed, "A place called Mercy Reef!"

Satisfied, Namor pushed him away, causing Krang to stumble a couple of steps before catching himself as Namor stomped towards the doors out of the room.

"Your men will bring me to this so called "Mercy Reef"" Namor stated, not looking at Krang as he talked, "I will deal with this matter personally."

"Y-Yes, my king," Krang replied shakily.

"I'm going too!" the boy spoke up, rushing to catch up with Namor.

"No Orm, you are staying here," Namor stated as he stopped and turned to face the boy.

"But Uncle-!" the boy, Orm, began to argue, but was cut off when Namor glared at him.

"No. Take Namorita and go to your father, Orm," Namor ordered.

Orm continued to hesitate, looking at his uncle worriedly.

"GO!" Namor shouted, causing the boy to flee, grabbing the girl and dragging her behind him as they left though a side door. Namor watched them go before leaving through the main door, slamming the large doors behind him with a deafening boom.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait guys, hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm really excited about this fic in particular, I don't think Aquaman gets enough love and I feel I can do him justice with this story. Hope you guys like it! Please review! Later True Believers!


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